


Lady Midday

by CajunSpice714



Category: Slavic Mythology & Folklore, Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, I strayed from the folk lore a bit..., head the warnings, short but sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-05-19 14:59:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14875955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CajunSpice714/pseuds/CajunSpice714
Summary: Ben is trying to escape the painful deeds of his past and stumbles upon the one person no one ever desires to meet in the midday heat.





	Lady Midday

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kayurka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kayurka/gifts).



> This work is inspired by [ This Artwork](https://kayurka.tumblr.com/image/173574365784)by the lovely Kayurka.

He’s running through a golden field, trying to escape the dark creature that tries to grasp his mind. The hounds of hell are upon him for his sins but no one can see them but him. The village has thrown him into solitude, outcasted him to a field house where the wheat and woods meet. The smell of warm, sunbaked wheat is all he can smell, the sight of gold and sting of the stalks whipping at his face, his neck, and crunching among the dirt under his bare feet is all encompacing as he flees. He knows better than to be in the fields when the sun is high, but he hopes, he hopes for one solitary moment, that the field will provide him some respite from the hounds of hell that bite at his ankles every moment of every day.

 

There are no real hounds, of course, just the guilt that grips Ben’s heart as he flees the confines of his house in search of some form of relief from the darkness that is taking over his entire being. He stumbles and falls, thick broken stalks slashing through his palms as he tries to right himself and fails. The sun is high and he knows, he  _ knows _ he shouldn’t be out here but he would rather face the lady of the grain than the darkness of his own soul.

 

Reeds of wheat flicker around him as he tries to slow his breathing, tries to quell the tears from dripping down his nose. He drops his head lower when he hears the ripple of the breeze and the heat of the midday sun beating down on his back. His white shirt is soaked through with sweat and his black pants feel as if they are aflame against his bare skin but he dares not move as the reeds dance, concealing soft footsteps, but only just.

 

A hand on his head startles him to stillness, even his breath stops as small fingers card through his tangled black hair. “Poor Ben.” The voice whispers her fingers cool upon his soaked and burning skin. She feels like rain in the middle of a drought and he lets out a soft sigh. “What is it you seek, my poor dearest Ben?” 

 

He remembers this girl, this woman whom he had once danced with in years past, and he dares a glance to her face to recall that yes, she is the same as the last time he had seen her, the last time before she had been taken by the midnight man, a pond of ice broken through and the love of his life gone without breath. Her linen dress was pure white, flowing to her knees, her hair piled at the nape of her freckled neck in elegant curls. Flowers of red, of white and purple, gathered in a wreath atop the crown of her head. She was the most beautiful, most freckled and wild, but for one solitary moment she was his wife and he loved her with all that he had.

 

“Freedom,” he whispers. “I wish to be free from this pain, I know what I must do but I don’t know if I have the strength to do it.” He whispers to her beseeching on his knees at her feet. He gathers her white linen skirts in his palms as he pleads to her. “Please free me from this pain.”

 

The maiden kneels before him brushing her hand through his hair again, her blade forgotten at her side, she lifts his chin, presses a gentle kiss to his mouth and smiles. “What is it you seek?” she whispers, caramel eyes calm and soothing. 

 

“Forgiveness.” His voice cracks on the word and a sob rips itself from his throat as he presses his face into her breast, holding himself to her. ‘Please. Grant me forgiveness from my sins. Please.” his last work is a broken plea as the Lady pulls herself from him to stand. He turns his imploring eyes to her and she leans her face down to his, her blade in one hand his chin in the other.

 

“I forgive you.” She whispers, pressing her lips to his as a sigh escapes his throat and her blade draws across his skin, pulling the blood from his veins and the air from his lungs in one last exalted breath before she leads his soul, hand in hand, through the golden fields to her home amid the forest sprites and calming breezes. His smile is broad as he kisses her in the shade, and hers matches, happy to have him by her side once more.


End file.
